Happier Days in Time Page 2

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  My sarcasm was lost on the kid as she ran with her bike up the front walkway, abandoned it in the grass, and then scurried up the porch steps. As she opened the screen door, her voice bellowed loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. “Mom! Some unmarried lady outside wants to talk to you!”

  “Holy crap!” Rex said, his head popping out of the top of my purse. “Did that kid hear me speak? How?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve never known that to happen before.”

  “Could she have the sight?” Rex asked. “Maybe some magical powers?”

  “She better hope not. I don’t see her mommy liking that little surprise in the least.”

  Rex snorted. “I kinda like the little sprite.”

  “Well, I’m not convinced if she is magical, that she’d use her powers for good…if you get my drift?”

  Rex’s shoulders shook, and he let out a high-pitched squeak.

  “Laugh all you want,” I said. “But there’s a little devil inside her dying to come out.”

  The front door opened and Rosie flew out of the house, followed immediately by a tall, thin woman in a dress similar to mine, only red and not teal. She even had on matching red shoes. Thankfully the hat, gloves, and purse were missing…but she did have on pearls.

  “Get down,” I hissed to Rex. “And don’t say anything else, just in case Rosie really can hear you.”

  The woman glided effortlessly down the front porch in her red shoes, and I couldn’t help but be envious. I was already dying to take the stupid shoes off because my feet hurt, and here she was still in them after the day was over.

  “Hello.” The woman offered me her hand. “My name is Nancy Belmont. Rosie said you needed to speak with me?”

  “Hi. My name is Alexa Ivanova, and my—”

  The woman gasped. “Oh my.” She looked over at her daughter. “Rosie, go get your daddy. Hurry.”

  The little girl’s eyes widened in surprise and she took off around the side of the house like a monster was chasing her.

  “Are you Sissy’s sister?” Nancy asked. “I wasn’t aware Sissy had a sister. She didn’t mention it.”

  “Well, Sissy could keep her secrets,” I said.

  Anger flashed in Nancy’s eyes. “Yes, she could.”

  I was about to dig in more, but a well-dressed man in khaki pants, white shirt, and black tie hurried our way. His dark hair was parted on the side and slicked back off his face. Stopping when he reached us, he let his dark eyes roam over me before offering his hand. “Cliff Belmont.”

  “Alexa Ivanova.”

  This time it wasn’t anger as much as surprise and worry at the mention of Sissy’s last name.

  Cliff cleared his throat. “So then you must be Sissy’s sister?”

  “Yes. Younger sister.”

  He nodded as though trying to process that information, and drew his wife to his side. “Now, just what is it my lovely wife and I can do for you?”

  “I’m looking for the house where Sissy lived,” I said.

  Nancy frowned. “Don’t you know the address?”

  “Now, Nancy,” Cliff chided, “I’m sure Miss Ivanova is just a little turned around after her…” He trailed off. “Where is your car?”

  “She walked,” Rosie piped up. “She was walking up the street when I saw her.”

  “Well, no matter,” Cliff said dismissively. “Sissy lived right across the street there with Margaret Ellington.”

  “Maggie to her friends,” Nancy said.

  I forced a smile. “Thank you. I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”

  “I simply must insist you come over for cocktails tomorrow around two,” Nancy said. “The girls and I do Friday cocktails every week.”

  “Splendid,” I said. “Can’t wait.”

  I turned and headed across the street to the two-story river rock façade and white lap siding house. But not before I heard the Belmonts’ whispers.

  “Can you imagine the shame of her parents?” Nancy said. “Neither sister married nor had kids.”

  “What is this country coming to?” Cliff wondered.

  Chapter 3

  At Margaret Ellington’s front door, I paused and looked over my shoulder. The Belmonts were still standing there staring at me. When they noticed me looking, Nancy lifted her hand in a small wave, fake smile plastered on her face.

  Turning back to the front door, I knocked as loudly as I could. I was about to ring the doorbell when the front door swung open and a dark-haired woman stood holding a martini glass.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Are you Margaret Ellington?” I asked.

  She took a sip of her martini. “Last I checked.” She burst into giggles and motioned me inside. “C’mon in, doll face.”

  I stepped over the threshold and followed her inside. And tried not to stare. This was definitely not a Levittown house. The foyer was nearly the size of my living room back home. To the left was a dining room that held a table so large I was sure it could seat at least a dozen people, and another archway I assumed led to the kitchen. In front of me was a freestanding oak staircase stained so dark it was almost black.

  She motioned me to follow her, and as we headed right off the foyer, we passed the spacious formal living room and kept walking until we finally came to a large family room.

  “Can I get you a drink?” She walked behind a curved bar set up on one side of the room. “What’s your pleasure?”

  I shook my head, not to say no to the drink, but more to clear it. This woman had no idea who I was, yet she just escorted me into her house. If she was always this lax, it was no wonder someone just walked inside the house and killed Sissy.

  “Um, sure. I’ll have a—”

  “Don’t tell me,” she interrupted. “Let me guess.”

  She looked me up and down then frowned. “Those clothes don’t suit you, doll.”

  “Tell me about it,” I mumbled as I set my purse down on a whicker stool in front of the bar.

  “No, you need slim pants and a simple shirt,” she declared. “My former housemate, she loved clothes. Every color, style…” She trailed off then snapped back to. “Did I tell you my name was Maggie?”

  I laughed. “Well, no. I mean, I know your name is Margaret, but you didn’t tell me to call you Maggie.”

  “Well do.” She tilted her head to the side, still studying me. “Now, if you took off that stuffy outfit and change into something more you, I’d say you’re a…cherry Amaretto sidecar.”

  I blinked. “I’m sorry?”

  Maggie laughed again and took another sip of her drink. “Your drink, doll face. You’re a cherry Amaretto sidecar.”

  She set her drink down and began mixing another. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I let my eyes wander over the room. A bright red rug covered most of the room’s carpet, an orange and yellow sofa that looked like it had zero padding sat against a wall, while an equally uncomfortable matching chair sat at a ninety-degree angle from the couch. Engulfed in a massive wooden box, directly across from the couch, was the tiniest TV I’d ever seen in my life. A gold star clock with metal spires shooting out in all directions took up the wall behind the sofa.

  “Here you go.” Maggie handed me a glass. “Now, what can I do for you?”

  “My name’s Alexa Ivanova. Sissy’s sister.”

  “Oh!” Maggie dropped her drink onto the counter and tugged me into her embrace. “Oh my gosh! I had no idea Sissy had a sister. I remember her telling me that her parents had died when she was twenty, but I didn’t—” With a sob, she patted my back gently. “I’m so sorry about Sissy.”

  “Thank you. I’m not surprised she didn’t say anything about me. I was just a little girl when our parents died. Barely thirteen. I went to live with my aunt while Sissy finished college. Then her career took off, and I rarely saw her.”

  Maggie leaned back and took my face in her hands. “You look just like her. Same hair color, same eye
s.” A tear leaked from the corner of one of her eyes. “I miss her so much. She was a lot of fun to have living here. She loved life, she was amazing at her job—I swear the girl could sniff out a story that wasn’t even there.”

  I smiled and gently pulled away. “That’s sort of why I’m here. I’d like to see how she spent her final days before I pack up her things.”

  “Of course.” Maggie picked up her drink once again and took a sip. “Everything is just as she left it. I haven’t had the heart to pack anything.”

  “After I find a place to stay,” I said, “I’ll call you and let you know—”

  “I’ll hear nothing of it,” Maggie said. “You will stay here.”

  “But you don’t even know me,” I said.

  Maggie wiped the track of tears off her face. “I knew your sister. And I loved your sister like she was my own daughter.” Maggie suddenly laughed. “Of course that would have made me ten when she was born, but you get the idea. Maybe more like a sister.” She smiled. “Regardless of the age difference, there was just a connection there with us. She’d never forgive me if I turned you away.”

  “Well, if you’re sure.”

  “It’s settled then. Do you have a suitcase with you?”

  I looked down at my fancy clothes. “To be honest, I don’t. This is all I have to my name.”

  Maggie clucked her tongue. “As I thought. See, I told you those clothes weren’t for you. Probably took all your money to buy them and travel here.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I figured that was the safest answer.

  “Did you take the bus to Roseville and then walk from town?”

  “If she only knew!” Rex exclaimed. “If she only knew!”

  “Yes,” I said, again not wanting to divulge too much.

  “You walked the five miles from town in those shoes?” Maggie asked incredulously. “You must be exhausted! Darn Oakdale Estates for refusing to allow the bus to run out here. Come, I’ll show you to your room.”

  She ushered me out of the living room, so quickly I barely had time to snatch up my purse with Rex inside.

  “Most of the squares who live in Oakdale Estates are boring and wealthy. That’s the two things they have in common.”

  I laughed. “But not you?”

  Maggie waved her drink in the air, causing some of it to spill. “I’ll give you the wealthy part, but never the boring.” She grinned at me. “I love keeping these people on their toes. Your sister and I both did.” She sobered at that. “The truth is, while Oakdale Estates is still technically connected to the town of Roseville, the people who live out here made sure they built far enough away from town that it would be an inconvenience for anyone without a vehicle. Then they built these oversized houses and priced them just far enough out of reach for the common man to afford.”

  “But you live out here,” I pointed out.

  “I do. My little brother, Jack, pretty much insisted on it. He worries about me…and I can’t have that. I love him too much. So I finally relented and moved out here a couple years ago.”

  I listened to Maggie prattle on as we climbed the staircase. In truth, I was only half listening. My cone bra was beginning to chafe, my feet were killing me, and my head was beginning to itch from the hat.

  “Do you know why I let Sissy move in with me?” Maggie asked, turning to me at the top of the stairs.

  “No.”

  “Because she wasn’t rich, boring, or presumptuous. I knew the minute I hired her to be a journalist for my newspaper that she was real. Authentic. She believed a woman was just as capable as a man to make a difference in this world. She shunned rules, but she could also conform when needed.” Maggie blinked back tears as she opened a door. “Like I said, the daughter I never had. I think you’ll find everything you need in here. I can’t bring myself to enter just yet. Please forgive me.”

  I gave her a quick hug. “It’s perfectly okay. I’m sure I can find what I need on my own. You’re so kind to offer to let me stay here while I learn more about Sissy.”

  “One of the things you’ll learn,” Maggie said as she turned and headed back down the staircase, “is that there’s no way Sissy killed herself.”

  Chapter 4

  “That was weird,” Rex said as he broke free from my purse. “No. I take it back. This whole thing has been weird.”

  I snorted and set the purse, along with my untouched drink, down on the dresser. “Yeah, I’m definitely going to need to ask Maggie in the morning what she meant by that statement.”

  Kicking off my shoes, I sank down onto the bed. Or at least I tried to. “I think a box spring just poked me in the butt.”

  Rex laughed.

  “So far I’ve learned the furniture in this era is uncomfortable, my fake parents must be ashamed of me because I’m not married with kids, and cocktails have replaced dinner.”

  “Good one!” Rex leaped onto the bed. “Eww! This bedspread feels itchy.”

  I ran my hand across the thin, yellow and red coverlet. “Yeah. It’s no down comforter.”

  “Whaddya want me to do tonight, Lexi? Huh? Huh?”

  Standing, I opened and closed dresser drawers until I found what I needed. Only it wasn’t a normal nightgown—it was a sexy floor-length pink nightgown with a matching robe.

  Rex let out a whistle.

  “Perv.” I held the satin-y gown up to me. “If memory serves, it’s called a peignoir. I think it’s beautiful.”

  “I’d buy the Missus one, but twenty-one days later I’d have another litter to name and keep track of.”

  I blanched at the image that brought up. “How about we never speak of this again?”

  Rex’s two front teeth popped out as he grinned at me. “There’s a reason I got so many kids, Lexi. I got sex appeal, girl. Yes, I do! Yes, I do! Don’t you go forgettin’ it.”

  “Ugh.” I tossed the peignoir set onto the bed. “Tonight I just want you to look around. Check in on Maggie, see if that all seems on the up-and-up. I’m going to snoop in here and see if I can find anything that would indicate why someone would want to murder Sissy.”

  Rex clicked his heels together and gave me a snappy salute before leaping off the bed and wigging under the bedroom door. I ran my hand over the nightgown one more time. I hated to admit it, but it sort of freaked me out that I’d be wearing a dead woman’s clothing, but a job was a job. And my job was to give this dead woman justice.

  Once the hideous bra was off and the pink peignoir was on, I knelt down in front of the dresser and started to methodically rummage around inside. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but that wasn’t a surprise. Most of my assignments were like that.

  Twenty minutes later, I sighed in defeat. I’d found absolutely nothing. No clue, no piece of paper that might help me understand why Sissy was killed. Nothing. Not only had I gone through every drawer, but I’d looked under the bed, under the mattress, checked the writing desk…zilch.

  I waved my hand in the air, and the mirrored closet doors gently slid open. Maggie was right, Sissy really did love her clothing. There were evening dresses, swing dresses, house dresses, pants, shirts, scarfs, purses, shoes of every style and color, and on and on it went. One thing for sure, no matter what situation I ran into while I was here, I would be dressed for the occasion.

  Unfortunately, after a thorough search of the closet, I still didn’t find a clue as to why Sissy was murdered. I looked at the alarm clock sitting next to the bed and shuddered. It looked like it could make enough noise to wake the dead. I knew now why I’d been given the palm-sized alarm. No way could I set the alarm by the bed to snoop in the middle of the night and not wake up Maggie and the rest of the neighborhood.

  Turning down the coverlet, I snapped off the bedside lamp and snuggled down into the sheets. My plan was to wait up until Rex returned, but I was more tired than I realized and soon drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  “Good morning.” I glided into the kitchen the next m
orning ready to get the investigation started. I’d decided on black and white polka dotted Capri pants with a cap-sleeved red shirt and matching red flats. Because I still wasn’t sure how to style my hair, I’d pulled my long blonde hair back into a ponytail and tied a red scarf around the band. A look usually for the younger crowd, but I hoped to get away with it.

  Maggie turned and smiled. “Much better. That look totally suits you.” She gestured for me to sit at the chrome and yellow kitchen table. “Newspaper’s on the table. Can I get you toast and coffee?”

  “Sounds wonderful.” I pulled out one of the chairs and sat. Glancing at the date on the Roseville Gazette, I realized today was the two-week anniversary of Sissy’s death. “I really like your choices of bold colors around the house. The yellows and reds and oranges. Then to accent it with teals and grays is quite appealing.”

  “Thank you.” She set a plate of toast and coffee in front of me. “The neighbors, outside of Jack and his wife, think it absolutely scandalous, a woman of my age living out here when I obviously have no family to parade around.”

  I snorted. “What are you? Forty?”

  Maggie grinned. “Forty-two actually. I’m forty-two, never been married, never had children, and I run a very profitable company on my own.” She sat down opposite me, leaned in, and winked. “They just don’t know what to do with me. I’m too rich to shun and ignore, yet I’m too scandalous to socialize with in polite society.”

  Rex chose that moment to scamper into the room. He perched atop the refrigerator and settled in to hear our conversation.

  “I think I understand why Sissy liked you.” I poured a splash of milk from the cream and sugar set on the table into my cup.

  Maggie blinked back tears. “Thank you.” She took a sip of her coffee then cleared her throat. “So tell me, what do you have planned today?”

  I groaned when I thought about Nancy. “You know your neighbors across the street? Well, the wife invited me over to meet ‘the girls.’ Whatever that means. I’m supposed to go over there around two. Are you going?”